


Glorfindel's Thrall

by Esteliel



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ardor in August, Dubious Consent, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erestor, a young thrall of the House of the Golden Flower, seeks an audience with Lord Glorfindel...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glorfindel's Thrall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mawgy for Ardor in August 2011, as a pinchhit for the following assigment: "Erestor is one of many slaves belonging to the House of the Golden Flower. Glorfindel has just been made Lord as his father has passed away. What will Glorfindel do with his newly acquired item(s)?"

"Who are you?"

Glorfindel gave the dark-haired youth a curious look, though with the flurry of activity that had followed the death of his father and his official instatement as Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, he had already passed the point of weariness at ever new Lords and Ladies and petitioners asking for an audience.

"Just a thrall." Bóren, his majordomo, gave the young elf an unkind look. "Only just taken in by your House, Lord, for crimes of his father on the day of his majority, as is the law. And already he has the temerity to come begging for favors. Forgive me for allowing him to slip in, I will take him back and see that-"

Glorfindel held up a hand, and Bóren fell silent.

"What's your name, boy?"

At that, the youth glared at him, but quickly reined in his expression when Glorfindel arched a brow.

"Erestor, Lord," he murmured, going to his knees before Glorfindel, who was lounging in the splendid seat on the dais from which his father used to speak his rulings over the household.

"And you came before me... why?"

Glorfindel gestured for Bóren to leave them, not even looking to make certain that his order was followed.

The youth bit his lip. "Begging for a favor, Lord."

Glorfindel laughed. "I am not in the habit of granting favors to thralls. Not unless they have proven themselves."

Erestor swallowed and worried the hem of his simple green tunic, stitched with the insignia of the Golden Flower over his heart.

"They want me to work in the kitchen. I... I... let me help in the library! Please! I'll be so good and careful and-"

Glorfindel held up a hand again.

"The library is a place for scholars. Helping them is the work of the apprentices. Do you know how highly sought after those positions are?"

"I'd... I'd care for the lamps, the candles, sweep the floor, do the simplest work! And - I'll do everything you ask in return! _Everything_! They say you have no one to warm your bed at the moment. I - I'd truly do anything, Lord!"

Glorfindel narrowed his eyes, then took hold of Erestor's arm and yanked him up by it so that the youth fell into his lap with a surprised cry.

"Anything? Do you even know what you are offering, boy?"

Roughly, he pushed a hand into the breeches of simple linen that were loose enough on the slender frame of the youth that he could easily take hold of him - finding him soft, as he had thought.

Erestor gasped once, then bit his lip and gave Glorfindel a defiant look, turning his head to crush their lips together in an untutored kiss. Glorfindel was frozen by sheer shock for a moment, then hungrily kissed back, only drawing back when he felt the youth's shaft harden in his hand.

"Alright. Enough for now," he said a little hoarsely, gently pushing the youth off his lap. "Back to the kitchen with you."

Erestor's face fell, and Glorfindel laughed, not unkindly. "Come see me next week... I think we might talk some more then."


End file.
